


We just carried on

by Hermit9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bittersweet, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6627592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9/pseuds/Hermit9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Prompt :  Snape/Harry (established relationship). The journal's rightful owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We just carried on

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompter asked for funny. And then this angst would just not. Go. away. I’m sorry! Also, here is the appropriate soundtrack for this (also where the title was taken from)… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFkSMHle8-M

One of these days, Harry decided, he was going to figure out how to bottle the scent of these robes. Rosemary and mint and the dustiness of amber. It makes him feel safe and warm. The strong hands carding through his hair, fingers applying the barest hint of pressure against his scalp helped too, admittedly.

None of this had been planned, at first. But on one of their early Occlumency lessons the combined pain and vertigo had overcome Harry, making him pass out. Snape had had little choice but to catch the young wizard before his head hit the ground. He did not need him with any physical injury ; Madame Pomfrey would grow suspicious and these lessons were meant to be a secret. He had conjured up some cushions to lower Potter upon, remarking for the first time how frail the boy was. How he turned to his touch blindly, seeking heat and comfort like a plant turns to the sun. How broken  _ Lily _ ’s boy had been. It had slowly become a habit from there, the pillows on the ground, Harry’s head on the professor’s lap, waiting for the pain to recede. There was no trace of this softness outside this room. Image and reputations had to be maintained, for both of their survival. And Potter was still an atrocious student, when he wasn’t cheating.

Harry shifted, sitting himself up so that he could bury his nose in Severus’s neck, breathing in that scent as well, tobacco leaves and pine needles.

“You make your own soaps, don’t you” he asked with a chuckle. “So you can smell dark and green like your house.”

“Obviously.” The tone was  _ exactly _ the same as in the classroom, but his eyes were soft and his fingers gently, brushing the fine hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. He was always careful of his touches letting the student demand more, refusing to impose anything more on his charge. He was already carrying so much that wasn’t his.

Some days Harry wanted more, soaking up tenderness like a sponge, like a man who had walked the desert and stumbled upon water just as his legs gave out. Other days, like today, this was enough. It was just right to be comforted, to watch the images of the memories swirling in his head and knowing he was safe - that all the pain was firmly in the past and couldn’t touch him. He paused the images in his mind, practice finally starting to pay off. Ginny’s head hunched over the diary, then the pages fizzing as the basilisk's venom burnt abstract patterns into the page.

“Huh” Harry said, the sound muffled against skin.

“Yes?” the answer was amused and soft.

Harry shifted a little, so his back was leaning against Severus’ chest, grabbing the larger man’s arms and draping them around himself, forming a cocoon of warmth and black robes.

“I was just thinking, if Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year and Myrtle died in his sixth…”

“Yes?” curious now.

“Was it already a magical thing, the journal? It seems hard to believe that a 4th or 5th year would enchant a muggle journal to have a replying charm of some sort… especially if he hadn’t known how to stick a part of his soul into it yet.”

“The Maurauders made the map” Snape offered as an answer.

“Yeah, but there was four of them.”

“True.”

“So I’m thinking… Riddle had at least one friend when he was here.  Someone willing to help him make a book where he could write all his thoughts and they’d be safe.”

“This bothers you. Why?”

“I wonder what happened to his friend” Harry said softly. Neither of them spoke until their time was up and they had to gather themselves up and leave.


End file.
